


It's Probably Inevitable

by megankelly



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, mentioned Derek/Kate, mentioned Scott/Allison
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-28
Updated: 2012-08-28
Packaged: 2017-11-13 01:26:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/497896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/megankelly/pseuds/megankelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Years ago, he might have thought it was sort of cute—her mouth struggling not to turn up at the corners, that lovesick gleam in her eyes. But now they’re just obstacles.</p><p>“If you’re expecting me to tell you about how he’s all starry-eyed over you, that’s not going to happen.”</p><p>Allison twirls a strand of her dark brown hair. She’s wearing a playful smile. “Someone sounds a little bitter.”</p><p>He thinks he should probably say something flirty back—that she might be expecting it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Probably Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> Derek giving Allison a ride home--missing moment from the pilot.

Derek doesn’t like this. He doesn’t want to be here for her—for Allison Argent. For all he knows, she could know about Scott. She could be following in Kate’s footsteps. Plotting. But he can’t bank on that. She might just be a teenage girl who doesn’t deserve getting clawed to death because Scott’s attraction and his new werewolf powers are a fatal combination.

He’s relieved to see Scott leaving the party but he knows that doesn’t mean Allison—or anyone else—is completely safe.

Once Scott turns, he might be drawn right back to Allison—potentially very bad for her, but also very potentially bad for Scott if he’s caught by the Argents. And Derek needs Scott.

There, that’s better, Derek thinks. He’s not here for Allison. He’s not here for Scott. He’s here for himself. For strategy. For finding the Alpha. 

And so he pretends that there’s no protective feeling, no tiny twinge of sympathy when he sees Allison staring off after Scott, young, confused, alone.

He can’t afford to be protective over an Argent. He can’t afford to feel _anything_ about an Argent, except all the hate and anger he’s accustomed to carrying, except the fear and mistrust that he relies on to keep him alive.

And that’s why, when he forces himself to say her name, he does so with his best smirk plastered to his face. He does so telling himself that he is completely cold and dead inside and that this is strategy because if he doesn’t think of it as strategy, he will think of it as something else; he will think of Kate and all those memories where she wasn’t a monster.

“I’m a friend of Scott’s.”

She is still looking off after the car. He steps closer. “My name’s Derek.”

She turns back to him. “What’s wrong with Scott?”

“He asked me if I could give you a ride home.”

Allison surveys him. “I, um, I can get another ride. From a friend. It’s no problem.”

Derek smirks again. “Scott told me you were new in town.”

“I can be new in town and have friends,” she says, like he’s the biggest idiot in the world.  
  
He holds in his sigh. She’s an Argent. Of course there’s a certain fire to her—even though Allison’s seems more like warm, gentle burning, with little flares of indignation, whereas Kate was always scorching, lit, on the edge of explosion. He had known that about Kate even when he thought they were destined for each other.

“I guess you’re good at that by now,” Derek says softly. “Scott tells me you’ve moved around a lot.”

He can tell she is trying not to smile when she asks, “What else has Scott told you?” But she is.

Years ago, he might have thought it was sort of cute—her mouth struggling not to turn up at the corners, that lovesick gleam in her eyes. But now they’re just obstacles.

“If you’re expecting me to tell you about how he’s all starry-eyed over you, that’s not going to happen.”

Allison twirls a strand of her dark brown hair. She’s wearing a playful smile. “Someone sounds a little bitter.”

He thinks he should probably say something flirty back—that she might be expecting it.

Instead, he abruptly says, “Well, I’m getting in the car in two seconds, but if you would rather interrupt Jackson and Lydia’s make-out session and get a ride back with one of them, feel free.” Then he starts walking to his car.

He doesn’t know why he’s doing this. Because what if she just leaves? He’s supposed to be in control, doing things as planned. He blames his actions on the full moon—not memories of Kate, not the weird, twisted flicker of attraction he may have felt towards Allison. Just the full moon.

When he gets to his car door, he looks back at Allison, who is still on the sidewalk.

She glances back at the party one more time before hurrying over. It surprises him that he wants to smile.

\--

Allison is thinking about how attractive Scott’s friend is as she slides into the passenger seat of his Camaro. Still, she’s smart enough to know that he is way too old for her. She glances at him sideways as he starts up the car. She’s not buying him as a high schooler—though for a second she thinks maybe he could be a senior. Allison is not exactly the youngest sophomore in high school, so who is she to judge?

Not that any of this matters anyway since Scott is adorable.

Then she remembers: Scott abandoned her at the party. Well, halfway-abandoned. He did send her Derek, a ride home, and she guesses that should count for something, though she’s still expecting a thorough explanation for this tomorrow at school.

“You know, I usually don’t accept rides from strangers,” Allison says, as she clicks her seatbelt into place. She’s giving him a smile that might be just a little flirtatious, but she really isn’t giving it too much thought. “I almost feel like this would be a good time to mention the gun collection in my garage.”

He looks at her, his face and voice deadpan. “I’m a friend of Scott’s.”  
  
“I was kidding. I mean. I wasn’t really kidding because I actually don’t accept rides from strangers, but I didn’t mean you’d…”

He’s just sort of looking at her with this empty look on his face, and it scares Allison, a little bit, because it seems sad and hollow and nothing like that charming, confident smile he gave her on the sidewalk. She’s about to ask if he’s alright when he snaps out of it, looking away from her and tightening his hands around the steering wheel.

“Uh, anyway, how do you know Scott?”  
  
He sighs as if it’s such a drag to have to talk to her which Allison does not like one bit. She’s over guys who are too cool for the world. Because boyfriends who are too cool for the world are always _way_ too cool for long distance. And then, once you think you’ve learned your lesson and break up with the boys beforehand, too cool for the world ex-boyfriends will never even send you as much as a Facebook message, even if they say they still want to be friends.

And then….Derek just doesn’t say anything at all. The sigh, which from any regular person would lead into a grouchy answer, just leads to….nothing. Derek driving in the silence as if she hadn’t said a word.

Allison crosses her arms. “Well, alright then.”  
  
“Scott and I…we have a lot in common.”  
  
Allison laughs, then feels him glaring at her. She could tell him why that sentence is ridiculous (because Scott is so open and himself and eager and not at all too-cool like Derek). She could even initiate some verbal sparring. But he’s too sulky; she figures it wouldn’t be much fun. Instead, she angles herself toward the window so she can stare at the pavement.

They’re about halfway to her house when she realizes she never told Derek where she lives, and she honestly doesn’t know if they’re on the right route home. She’s not familiar with the area yet, and it was dark on the way to the party, and well, she may have been a bit distracted by nerves and by Scott and his adorable crooked jaw.

“Um, Derek-”

“Hmm?” His eyes don’t veer towards her at all.

“Do you know how to get to my house?”

“Scott told me,” he says.

“Scott sure had a lot of time to tell you things when he couldn’t even tell me why he was leaving.”

“Well, maybe that says something about the type of guy Scott is.”

“Wow,” Allison says. “You’re some friend. Shouldn’t you be covering for him?”

“Probably. Let’s not tell Scott about this whole thing. He might be mad at me for being—well, less than charming.” This time, Derek actually looks at Allison, and a smile flashes on his face, though just for a second.

Allison bites her lip. She doesn’t want to be interested in him. No, correction: it’s not really being interested _in him_. It’s being interested _by_ him. Because he does act like he’s too cool for the world but not in the way those ex-boyfriends did—the ones she dated because somehow she became really good at the people thing out of necessity, even really good at the whole “cool” thing somehow (she really thinks it’s some kind of miracle), and cool boyfriends came with the package until she realized that the whole dating-and-moving thing sucked. It’s different but she can’t put her finger on it. Also, he’s older and hot. Maybe this is just fueled by her anger with Scott for just ditching her, she isn’t quite sure.

“Our little secret.”

Again, she’s expecting him to reply, but he’s unresponsive, eyes hard as he looks at the road.

She waits a little while before asking if he can turn the heat down. He says he likes the temperature the way it is. She rolls her eyes and shrugs off her jacket. They both are quiet for the rest of the ride—which ends sooner than Allison expects when Derek comes to a sudden halt down the block from her house.

“Um, I’m a little bit farther up.”

“Do you really want your parents seeing an older guy in a Camaro dropping you off instead of your date?”

“You might actually have a point.” Allison’s parents basically gave her the third degree about Scott—and Scott looks absolutely harmless compared to Derek, with his little bit of scruff and his leather jacket.

Allison opens the car door, then looks back at the seat for her jacket which isn’t there. She thinks that she had it in the car, she would practically swear she had it, but it’s not there. She looks to see if it fell down.

“What are you looking for?” Derek asks.

“My jacket. I—I must’ve left it at the party.”

“Yeah,” Derek says, “I don’t remember you having one.”

“Hmm, no big deal.” Allison slides out and is about to shut the door. Then she turns back and says, “Thank you, Derek, for the ride.”

He nods at her, and she sighs, because really, not even a, “You’re welcome?”

But just because he lacks all decorum doesn’t mean she won’t finish out this awkward ride with unfailing manners.

“It was nice meeting you.”

He stares at her skeptically.

“I guess,” she adds.

He smiles slightly, as if appeased.

“I’ll see you around?” Allison says.

“It’s probably inevitable.”

Allison rolls her eyes because, after that doozy of a car ride, what else was she expecting him to say? She starts walking towards her house, thinking about what she’ll tell her parents if they notice that she’s walked home. She’s not necessarily big on lying to them, but she thinks she can pull something off. She is not thinking _at all_ about how, even after the awkwardness of that car ride, that there’s a part of her that doesn’t really mind the idea of seeing Derek around, inevitable or not.

Okay, so maybe just a little.

And that’s probably why she looks back when she’s closer to her house. Derek’s car is still parked a distance away. She realizes he’s watching her, to make sure she gets in safely, which isn't really needed. She can walk a few hundred feet by herself, no big deal. She wishes he was in earshot so she could tease him about it.

Instead she just says softly, “Look who cares after all,” before heading towards the house.

\--

He is holding her jacket as she walks to her house. He can only imagine how Argent would react if his daughter had showed up in the driveway with Derek Hale. The idea gives him the tiniest bit of satisfaction, and he thinks, maybe, if he wasn’t so afraid, he would’ve done it. Just to stick it to him.

Derek’s proud of himself for managing to snatch her jacket without her noticing. He had waited for just the right moment when she was scooting out of the seat, when his hand wouldn’t have to brush against the small of her back in the process. The best part was how swiftly and silently he had managed to store the jacket underneath his seat while her back was to him.

And now he has the perfect bait to lure Scott out into the woods, away from Allison. This jacket that smells just like her. Derek is aware that the whole car is filled with her scent now, which is mostly comprised of some flowery teenage girl perfume. It’s kind of a nice smell, actually.

He means to stop the memory, but then it’s there—buying Kate perfume for their three month anniversary. He had no clue what to get her. Normally he would’ve asked Laura for help, but due to the top secret nature of his relationship with Kate, he was all on his own. He remembers how much he had wanted to impress her, how he had presented it to her so nervously. Kate had sprayed it on her wrist, sniffed, and laughed, saying, “Your werewolf sense of smell, and _this_ is what you choose,” before putting it aside. “Oh, don’t get all sad puppy on me, Derek,” she continued, plunging her hand in his hair. “Sometimes I think we need to toughen you up, sweetheart.” And remembering that made his stomach sink because, “Sweetheart,” had always sounded so condescending, but he had liked when she called him that anyway; he hadn’t cared that she thought she was so much smarter, so much wiser, as long as she looked at him like she wanted him.

Then, suddenly, Allison’s voice is so clear and sharp in his ears: “Look who cares after all.” It snaps him right out of that that emotional pit which he’s usually so skilled in dancing around.

This isn’t Kate Argent, the woman who destroyed his life, his family, who played at being in love with him.

This is Allison, a teenage girl who may not have any idea what he is, what Scott is, what her family even is. A teenage girl who didn’t seem to be lying when she said it was nice to meet him. This is Allison, who is looking back at him with this smile that’s all curious, like he’s not a threat, like he’s just some brooding, slightly older guy who might be hiding a heart of gold under that sour façade, like he’s in the movie of her life and he might just be a romantic interest…or maybe just the jerkier option in the love triangle.

This is Allison, and right now, all that matters is watching her get safely inside. Once he sees her walk into the house, he figures it’s safe to go. Before he reaches for the wheel, he realizes that her jacket is still in his lap—that he’s clutching it, even. He drops it on the seat next to him as if it’s something dirty before speeding away. Briefly, he wonders if she’s watching him drive by from a window.


End file.
